


Wandering

by NewTimelineNewMe



Series: Whumptober2020 [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Day One: Let’s Hang Out Sometime, Gen, I struggled with this one, Introspection, Whumptober, eiffels thing he did that was not good, th. the handcuffs were the shackles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewTimelineNewMe/pseuds/NewTimelineNewMe
Summary: The driver was always fine.
Series: Whumptober2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1950760
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Wandering

The driver is always fine.

That’s one thing Doug always scoffed at- one thing he would list in his ‘Top Ten unrealistic media portrayals’ list, right under that people only spend a few minutes under after knocked unconscious. But here, right now? Doug was fine.

The driver was always fine.

The football player was crippled, they said. He’d be lucky if he could walk again. The prom queen had broken her arm- if it weren’t for her seatbelt, she’d have snapped her neck. Anne-

Doug was fine. Of course.

He pleaded guilty- why wouldn’t he? And got 26 years. The handcuffs felt cold, and yet Doug felt a sick comfort in them. Proof. He was...bad. 

Stupid of him. Completely stupid. 

He’d just meant to have one drink. 

The rules were simpler, here, in prison. Stay out of the way of other people, stay silent and keep your head down. Don’t say anything ‘quirky’, nothing that could gather attention. Attention was bad, here. Attention broke his arm.

No nicknames, joking or otherwise. Nicknames brought attention, they brought fights and he was no karate kid. 

Don’t ask about the crime. 

Don’t assume anything you’re given is yours.

Just....don’t. Head down, and there’s a chance they’ll ignore you. That’s the best scenario, best outcome. The best days he just sits in his self loathing, getting ignored by everyone around him.

Doug misses the handcuffs. The cold shackles around his wrists. He deserves them, but he didn’t deserve the sick comfort they brought. 

A guard came one day, swinging a pair of cuffs in his hands. He tossed them to Doug. “Put those on. You have a visitor.”

Doug raised his eyebrow; he couldn’t think of anyone that would bother to visit. He put them on regardless, heading out without a word. Someone met him in the hallway, and he confirmed that he was Doug. 

They walked together, her denying any questions he asked. That was fine, 

He was led to a visitor room, and walked in to see a man who was, by all accounts, perfectly average. His hair was average length, a boring brown. His skin was unblemished, and his face had no wrinkles. His smile, however...he had the strangest smile.

His handcuffs jingled as they exchanged some basic conversation, Doug glaring at him untrustworthily as the man explained he wasn’t, in fact, his lawyer.

“My name is Mr. Cutter,” He said with that terrible, terrible smile, “And I’m here because you, Doug Eiffel, are extraordinarily, infuriatingly, mind-numbingly, lucky.”

**Author's Note:**

> jsjsjsjskskskjs not really proud of this one but tell me what you think!


End file.
